


Maze

by diminiesugar



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Parenting, Doyoung needs a hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung-centric, M/M, Metaphors, Two plot lines, good friend taeyong, i'm sorry doyoung, luckily jaehyun's there, mazes, unsupportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diminiesugar/pseuds/diminiesugar
Summary: Walls go up, up until it disappears inside the grey fog. It’s dead silent. The sound of his shagged breathing dissolves into the silence, lost inside the maze. He looks ahead yet nothing welcomes him except the darkness that had always haunted him. He closes his eyes before stepping inside the unknown. He, despite the loud protest in his mind, walks further ahead. After all what lays behind him is scarier than what waits for him. He opens his eyes.-The clock strikes eleven.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Maze

Walls go up, up until it disappears inside the grey fog. It’s dead silent. The sound of his shagged breathing dissolves into the silence, lost inside the maze. He looks ahead yet nothing welcomes him except the darkness that had always haunted him. He closes his eyes before stepping inside the unknown. He, despite the loud protest in his mind, walks further ahead. After all what lays behind him is scarier than what waits for him. He opens his eyes. 

-

The clock strikes eleven. 

Kim Doyoung has been staring at the thesis in front of him for an hour now. The key terms he had written mixing with others, forming nothing but chaos. His vision starts to blur with unshed tears as he lets out a strangled breath. Even with his fingers pulling strands of hair he can’t seem to catch a grib. With a last glance towards his paper he explodes. The posture he had tried to maintain breaks as hot tears escape his doe eyes. 

He hates this. The feeling of being unable to accomplish something. He carelessly wipes away his tears, thankful for the empty library. The shame of anyone walking on Kim Doyoung, the pride of the medicine faculty, ugly crying due to a thesis is too much for him to bear. 

Men don’t cry, his mother's voice haunts his mind. His posture stiffens yet the tears, as if they have their own mind, continue to flow. He knows they won’t stop. Not when the thesis he usually would finish in a day has been dragged out to three days. Not when he keeps beating himself up for not doing it well enough. His shoulders slump from the imaginary weight put on them as his head falls on the table. He fails to realize the new presence at the table as he wallows himself in self pity. He jolts from his seat when a hand touches his shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” The stranger asks as Doyoung looks up. 

“Ye-” He stumbles once his eyes land on the man in front of him. The stranger is, in the simplest way, gorgeous. God-like. His eyes, oh god his eyes, trained on him are like two black holes, pulling in him as he goes further and further away from the exit. His skin is fair, smooth, shining underneath the cheap lighting. Doyoung thinks he looks captivating.

“Are you alright?” The man repeats himself, concern painting his face. Doyoung decides that he does not like that expression on his beautiful face. It takes a minute for Doyoung to understand the man is waiting for an answer. 

“Everything is fine. Perfect even. Absolutely lovely” He forces a smile in order to look convincing. (He doesn’t know how he will manage that with his bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks but he tries). The guy, unsurprisingly, looks unconvinced. 

“What is the problem?” Doyoung feels his lower lip wobble as a sob travels up his throat. He swallows. Unfortunately the bottle of emotions he had locked away is far too full for him to push in more. He explodes. Sobs shake his small frame as he nests himself in the strangers chest, his face buried into the man's shoulder. His hands are clutching a handful of the god-like person’s sweater. 

“How can I be a doctor when I can’t even write a damn thesis.” He wails (quietly, he is still inside the library afterall). The man caresses his hair. 

“I’m sure you will make a great doctor even if you can’t write a damn thesis.” Doyoung snorts at the stranger. 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Grades have never, and will never, define a human being. You can have the lowest scores of your grade or you can have the highest grades possible. Neither of these show how smart or stupid you are. In life everything comes down to this theory at some point or is connected to it in some way. Now, in this point of life, you are unable to write a thesis but that doesn’t mean you’ll always be incapable of it. It also doesn’t mean you are incapable of being good at something you pursue. The effort you put in will, in the end, always pay off.” 

Tears seem to endlessly flow from his eyes as his body, eagerly, absorbs each and every syllable the stranger tells him, wanting, no craving, to remember them. To remember the words he had longed to hear for years, the words that he had always needed but never got. 

“Thank you.” 

Thank you for reminding me that I am, indeed, capable. 

-

He is wandering around the endless darkness. There is no sense of direction, no sign of where he is, where the exit is. Everywhere he goes, every turn he takes, it feels as if he keeps coming back to the same place. His pace fastens in hopes of finding a sign, anything that could help him. Grey walls, grey walls, grey walls. He runs. Sprints down the corridor, praying to find something different. He turns, turns. Grey, grey, grey. His heartbeats ring in his ears. His lungs burn yet he runs, runs, runs. 

His legs give up, or maybe it’s his consciousness that gives up. He doesn’t know, doesn’t think once his body crashes on the cold, cement floor. The silence sucks in his pants preventing him from hearing anything. His muscles ache as he lays, sprawled, on the floor. His lungs try to take in as much as air possible, trying to recover each second that was left without it. A sob escapes him as the indifferent grey walls welcome him. His throat, longing for water, hurts with each sob. He curls into a ball, his arms embracing his legs closer, as he cries. His mind, broken and hopeless, is ready to give up when he sees it. Light, dim, barely illuminating the darkness. He tries to crawl towards it. 

He tries to reach the light that sings to him. 

-

Doyoung closes the door of his room. His little breakdown had taken a whole hour before calming down. The stranger, Jung Jaehyun he learned, stayed beside him the whole time. He lets his bag fall onto the floor and his body immediately collapses on top of his cotton sheets. A relieved sigh leaves his lips. Jaehyung had insisted he took a break from the thesis, wait a few days until his mind clears up. (He had, also, said that it was not healthy to overwork due to a thesis that’s deadline is three weeks away). Doyoung, however, still reached towards his laptop as his mother’s voice echoed through his head. 

-

His arms wobbled under his weight, too weak, too pathetic to carry him. He tried to stand up, forcing every one of his muscles to move. His legs, the moment he gave his body weight to them, failed to carry him as he fell. The contact with the cold, cold floor came too quickly. His body, beaten, laid there, not moving as the light slowly disappeared.

-

Kim Doyoung doesn’t really have friends. (Except Lee Taeyong, who he had the unfortunate luck to meet). The only ones that he refers to as “friends” (or acquaintances) are the sons of his father’s business partners. He, undoubtedly, has an aversion to the group in general. However, even with his obvious disgust directed to the boys, he has to hang out with them. (Unless he wants to disappoint his father, which he does not and will never want). Therefore, he has to act as if he does not stick out like a sore thumb in the group. 

It is one of those days where he cannot refuse the invitation given to him with any excuse henceforth has to hang out with them. Fortunately, he had managed to change their meetup place from a five starred fancy restaurant to a casual cafe. (Doyoung had always detested the idea of flaunting). 

The cafe they settle in is a five minute walk away from their campus. As they enter Doyoung realizes how peculiar they look inside the environment. Six people wearing formal clothing bought from some expensive brand with one boy in front wearing worn-out jeans and an oversized pink sweater. They quickly seat themselves beside the window. 

“One of us can order for everyone.” One of them, Doyoung can’t remember his name, says. Everyone starts to list what kind of drink they want. (The list consists of americano, black coffee, espresso etc. overall nothing his sweet tooth can handle). 

“I’ll like a caramel latte please.” Even with his voice no higher than a whisper all eyes fall on him. Calculating, loading, judging, hating. He cowers in his seat. 

“I think we have heard your order wrong Dongyoung.” He cringes at his birth name. “Man don’t drink those kinds of sweet, weak beverages. They drink espresso, americano. Something strong, manly. Choose a proper drink or don’t get anything.” Their words are harsh like always. Cold, painful. Stabbing. Doyoung still does not know why he lets it affect him when they had always been like this yet then again, he had always been weaker. He looks down in shame (and to avoid the disappointed gazes directed at him. They had always made him feel insecure, weak and pressured.) 

“I’ll get an americano.” He stutters out. 

“Good. Next time. Don’t let it happen again.” Doyoung does not look up when the guy walks away to order neither does he when everyone around him starts conversing or when his order is slammed in front of him. His gaze burns his shoes as insecurity creeps up into his body, embracing every inch of his skin. His thoughts are painted over with insecurity as he forces his eyes to stay dry. He cannot do anything but to accept his fate. Afterall, this was his punishment for disappointing everyone. 

Soon enough his “friends” start leaving one by one and he is left alone in a coffee shop with a cold, untouched americano and even a colder heart. There is no sound around him other than the sound coming from the counter but then another sound mixes in. Footsteps. They come closer, closer until… 

A cup is gently placed in front of him. A cup of caramel latte he notes when he looks up in surprise. 

“What that asshole said wasn’t true. Coffee can’t be masculine or feminine. Coffee is coffee no matter the amount of sugar in it.”

“But-”

“Gender is a very subjective thing. Something that seems masculine to you doesn’t need to be seen as masculine for another person. Therefore what others think of you or your gender should never affect your way of living. That’s what makes the world we live in exciting. Having different aspects and thoughts blending in together to form a whole.” Doyoung wipes away his tears as he curses himself for crying in front of the same person, twice. Judging from the way Jaehyun looks at him, however, tells him that he does not mind. 

“Why are you so good with words?” Doyoung wails as he lets himself cry harder. Jaehyun smiles. 

“I’m not actually but thank you. Now drink your latte before it gets cold.” Doyoung grabs the cup but fails to take a sip as his body shakes with his sobs. His vision is blurry which causes him to miss the cup. Jaehyun chuckles as he grabs the cup, putting it back to its place. 

“You are a mess.” Jaehyn laughs as he wipes away Doyoung’s tears, his affectionate gaze making the other melt. “May I ask a question though?” Doyoung nods. 

“Why do you hang out with these guys that make you feel bad about yourself?” 

“To make my father proud. He was the one who introduced us. He told me that in order to be successful I had to choose wisely. He used to be really disappointed when he learned that I didn’t hang out with them. I didn’t like seeing his gaze, filled with so much disappointment that I decided to just get used to it. Force myself in, build a home in them that only ever hurt me.” Jaehyun hugs him. His strong arms embrace Doyoung’s little, fragile body creating a safe place for him. Doyung cries harder. 

“You never have to live up the expectations others put on you Doyoung. Never forget that.”

-

He aimlessly walks around the corridors, the want he had to find an exit gone. The silence that had eaten each sound he produced was taken over by whispers. Harsh, cold, painful. The voice does not have a source yet the insults that find a way in his heart, stabbing it, is familiar. Too familiar. The feeling it brings is peculiar, scary even. 

A presence. He can feel a presence behind him. The air it exhales caressing his neck as a hand slowly wraps around his wrist. From the shape it feels as if it belongs to a human yet the feeling, cold and slimy, says otherwise. He looks back. At first there is nothing but darkness until… 

He sees a thing, no things, move towards him, trying to grab him, pull him. They resemble a hand until their skin is exposed. His eyes slowly wander down til they stop at the one around his wrists. Its long black nails pierce through his skin as he screams, trying to pull his hand away. He manages to detach his arms but is left with long, deep wounds before running. The presence behind him, the feeling of being chased never leaves. The thing is close, too close. His body is exhausted from the amount of running done in such a short time. Soon enough it catches him, the hands clenching around his ankles, pulling him. He falls face plant on the floor as he wishes for something, anything to save him. The hands pull him inside the unknown. He closes his eyes. 

This is not the end. 

A voice inside of him tells him, forcing him to open his eyes, to look at what he tried to avoid. 

You can do it. 

He, with a new found force, thrashes around, tries to defy the hands pulling him. Screams, scratches, hits. Then, as if it had heard him asking for help, a light appears. The hands around his ankles quickly retreat, hissing. He looks up towards the corridor in front of him. 

-

It’s in the early morning (3 AM) when he reaches for his phone. He quickly unlocks the device before automatically entering the groupchat of “spoiled brats” (as Jaehyun had put it). Typing out his next sentence is easier than he had thought. As their contacts are deleted from his contacts he feels lighter.

He feels free.

-

The corridor lits up.

-

November passes in a flash. 

It’s a miracle that his “friends” didn’t bother him after the whole “I don’t want to be friends with any of you” message. It was obvious that they didn’t want him as much as he didn’t want them. Unfortunately that didn’t prevent his father from calling him and shouting his ear off for an hour. By the end of the “rebellion won’t get you anywhere” talk his eyes were teary. He apologized but stated that he won’t continue his relationship with the group. 

“What do you mean you will not?!” His father screams, screeches, at him. Doyoung takes a deep breath in order to calm his nerves.

“Despite our hatred for each other we hung out for years on your and your business partners behalf. We don’t mix well therefore I think this end is best for both sides.” 

“Do you really believe that this kind of bullshit will make you successful? I can’t believe you Kim Dongyoung, I expected better from you-”

Doyoung hangs up before he crashes. 

-

You can do it.

You can do it.

You can do… 

You can…

You… 

I can’t do it. 

His wrists are burning. Blood, warm and sticky, gushes out of his wounds as he crawls towards the light. The voice inside his head is turning, disappearing inside the returned silence. 

He screams as the lights disappear.

-

Christmas arrives. It brings a week-long break with it.

A normal student would take a few days off before studying but Doyoung is not normal therefore finds himself in the library on the first day of holiday. The date shows it is the 23rd implying that there is only two days left till Christmas. (Not that he cares. His dorm room is as bare as ever with no decoration. The only plan he has for the holidays is studying). His nose is buried in a book about… he doesn’t remember. It is expected of him to write a paper about the human body but his book does not look like it belongs to any medical field. He looks at the cover. 

Oh he is reading “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them”. 

Rubbing his eyes he decides that he is done for the day. He will continue his paper tomorrow. He is in the middle of putting his pencils back to their color-coded places when he hears someone shout, scream, his name. 

“Doie!” Shit he knows that voice. It belongs to the only person that would dare to screech at a library. Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul and oh no, Taeyong Lee is with him. They sit on the unoccupied seat in front of him with sickeningly sweet smiles decorating their faces. Doyoung is screwed. 

“Hi, Taeyong and… Chittaphon.”

“Yah! It’s Ten and also drop the formality. I always feel like I’m talking to an old person when I speak wıth you.” 

“Okay.” 

“Great! Now to the point.” Ten screeches and oh god, Doyoung is lucky the owner of the library likes him or else he would be banned “What are your plans for Christmas Doie.”

“Studying.” He regrets his answer when both of them turn towards him with unimpressed gazes. He should’ve said something like family dinner (not that they would believe it but still). 

“Didn’t expect anything less from you but that isn’t the point. The point is that you are invited to our Christmas Party and no you can’t reject it.” 

“But-”  
“Please?” Taeyong asks and dang it, they all know he is soft for Taeyong Lee’s infamous puppy eyes. He bangs his head on the table. 

“Fine.” He ignores the silent screams of joy he gets from the couple. 

(Later he apologizes to the lady who works there. She tells him it is fine but that doesn’t stop him from buying her pastries as an apology present.) 

-

Heavy breathing.

Rushed footsteps.

Away, faster, run.

He looks back. 

Pace fastens. 

Shouts that do not belong to him. 

Someone is crying. 

He screams.

-

Wednesday arrives with regret and anxiety. The feeling of wanting to give up, the urge to hide underneath his covers, away from everyone and everything takes over. He wants to ditch the party yet he knows that there is no way the couple would buy any of his excuses. 

Doyoung finds himself pacing around his room, his teeth sinking in his plush lips. He is, in the simplest words, his having a mental breakdown over the party (get together?). Will the said party, in any aspect, require socializing? Is there any specific rule as to follow in parties? Do parties have dress-codes that need to be followed? He frantically grabs his phone before calling his only friend. 

“Hey Do-”

“What do I wear to a party? Casual or formal wear? If casual how casual or if formal how formal? Do I need to act like I have socializing skills? Is there a need to bring something with me? Are there-”

“Woah, woah. Slow down there tiger. To answer your first concern, wear whatever. There is no rule that includes socializing, interacting or bringing something. Just bring yourself and relax.” 

Doyoung sighs in relief. 

“Alright, thanks. Bye.”

“See y-” Doyoung hangs up. 

He regrets all his life decisions. In which state of mind did he think coming to a party was anywhere near acceptable? His thoughts are cut short once the door is opened by an overly energetic Ten. At some point Ten screeches out a “hello!” before pulling him inside and he is being shoved in the middle of a room full of people. (He might be exaggerating a bit, there were only eight or so people in the room). Also, somehow, he has a glass of red wine in his hand. Huh, interesting. He does not remember grabbing it. 

“No offence but I don’t know half of you.” A boy with long, whitish hair says. Taeyong excitedly claps. 

“Well then! Introduction time.” 

Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, Kun and Sicheng; he learns. All of them are either majoring in Music or Arts, with some side majors. (He ignores the envy that crawls inside him).

“I’m Kim Doyoung, majoring in health and medicine.” He hears a few “ooh”s and “aah”s (coming from mainly Johnny and Yuta). 

“That’s one tough major.” Doyoung forces a smile at the comment. 

“Ye-”

“Sorry y’all. My manager was being an asshole like always.” A familiar voice says. Doyoung does not look back to confirm that the owner of the voice is Jaehyun. He feels a small warmth in his chest.

“Working on Christmas? That’s straight up bad luck Jae.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Jaehyun bites back. Doyoung finds himself smiling at the interaction. Maybe, just maybe, he can be a part of this as well. 

Not even an hour later Doyoung finds himself outside, admiring the stars. His fifth glass of wine is nearly finished. He is not entirely drunk like Taeyong nor is he sober like Johnny. He sways to the rhythm of some corny christmas carol as he sings silently (quite loudly actually but he does not care).  
“You have a beautiful voice.” Doyoung does not turn around to identify the person. That voice is the one that haunts his dreams, the voice that only belongs to one person he has found a refuge in. 

“Thanks. Always had a passion for it.”

“Why not pursue it then?” Doyoung smiles bitterly, stubbornly keeping his gaze on the stars.

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“My father would rather die than to let me pursue music.” 

“Why do you let him control you like this?”

“Want to really hear about it?” Doyoung asks as he finally turns around. In all his might Jung Jaehyun welcomes him. His heart skips a beat. 

Jaehyun nods. Doyoung decides to tell him. (He might not be as sober as he thinks he is.) 

“My family had always been broken, long before I was born. Arranged marriage in order to bond two top companies. Home was never a safe place, it will never be. The first eight years of my life was filled with arguments and shouts. There was no love between the families, between my parents, between me and my parents. They had no place for me in their hearts. I was, usually, completely neglected unless my parents were too fed up on each other. Then suddenly I was the fault, the cause of everything. Their anger for each other became directed at me. The divorce wasn’t surprising for anyone. I was thrown between two homes both as cold, as lonely as the other. My father, as a successful CEO, wanted me to be like him. He told me that without money I was nothing. My mother wanted me to bring home money. Wanted me to be a manly man, a perfect son married to a woman equally as successful as me. I had always been surrounded by stereotypes. Had to build forced friendships for the future, cut ties off with anyone that wouldn’t help me reach money. Never in my life did I ever feel free. Playing with kids was forbidden, dancing was banned, singing was not allowed. Money and perfection were the top priority. When I told my parents I wanted to become a singer my mother kicked me out, disowned me while my father yelled at me for hours. Told me I was good for nothing unless I was successful, made me believe that only medicine or business mattered. I pursued medicine for him to be happy, to be proud yet he never was. He never has been and never will be.” 

By the end tears were streaming down his face as his teeth sunk in his lips, preventing any noise from escaping. He turns his head towards Jaehyun and his walls, weak and fragile, completely crushes underneath the soft gaze. 

“I only wanted friends to play with, a home to go back with a smile, parents that would love me yet all I ever got was pain. I hated myself. Why couldn’t I make my own parents love me? Why couldn’t I make anyone proud?” 

Arms wrap around his body as warmth surrounds him. The embrace of the younger is accepted by him as he buries his head further in Jaehyun’s shoulder. 

“Why can’t I be the perfect son?” His hands fist a part of the soft fabric as he brokenly asks. 

“But you already are. Oh god Doyoung you are. You are the perfect son everybody would love to have. Someone who is wise, kind, hard-working, loving. Someone who knows how to empathize with people. Someone who anyone could trust, could go for advice. You don’t have to push yourself any further to become perfect because you can’t. You shouldn’t. Becoming perfect is for no one but yourself. Even if it’s not for yourself it is for someone you care about and someone who cares about you. Wasting your time to impress someone who won’t appreciate the effort is unfair to you. Your father or your mother, they never wanted to love you. They only yearned for what you would bring but you are much more than that. Doyoung, never let anybody decide how you live your own life. This life belongs to you and you only. Never waste it on someone who won’t acknowledge it.” 

“Also Doyoung never forget, you are loved.” Doyoung cried harder. 

“Thank you.”

-

The shouts won’t stop. They keep getting louder and louder. He hates it, he hates how close the screams hit home. His eyes trained on the two figures in the middle of the dim room. Their yells are directed at each other, their arms flapping around as if they are baby birds trying to fly. He, on reflex, shrinks underneath the gaze already feeling the blame that was waiting to be put on him. The voices don’t stop, the opposite actually. They keep getting louder until one of them throws something on the floor. It turns around and walks away, vanishing into thin air. The one left behind, still obviously angry, looks around. Its face finds his figure in the darkens and he feels dread taking all over his body. 

“You!” He flinches. “You did all this. This is because of you!” 

He wants to shout yet his mouth is sealed shut together as if under a spell. 

“How could you? How could you come between us like that? How could you destroy what we had?” 

“You caused this!”

“How could you ruin our lives like that?”

“No! I didn’t do anything. No, no, no no…” He hugs his legs closer, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“You-”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up…” His hands covered his ears. “You are looking for someone to blame for your mistakes. You are to blame.”

He can hear his deep breaths, the rapid beat of his heart. Yet he hears no other sound. So he opens his eyes. 

Light, warmer, brighter than before, welcomes him and a foreign feeling takes over his senses. Feeling of being home. 

-

Doyoung wakes up regretting everything but mostly waking up. His head, pounding, is killing him. The sun is shining directly inside his pupils. His back hurts from laying on the cement. 

It takes him a moment to realize he is laying on the balcony but he doesn’t even own a terrace. Taeyong does. Oh, he is at their house sleeping on the balcony with another boy… 

“What? What?!” He quickly looks at the body beside him and oh it’s just Jaehyun… Jaehyun?! 

“What the fuck are we doing on the floor?” Jaehyun asks with a raspy voice (Doyoung thinks it’s hot but no one needs to know.) Without thinking he smacks the boy. 

“I’m so sorry!” 

After getting the morning drowsiness off they head inside. A mess welcomes them. Johnny is laying on the couch, his mouth open. Taeil is curled up underneath Johnny’s leg while Kun is hugging his dangling arm. Ten is underneath the rug. Yuta and Sicheng are on the floor cuddling. And judging from the clash of pots Taeyong’s in the kitchen. 

“You are the biggest lightweight I know yet somehow the earliest riser.” Doyoung says as he heads towards the kitchen, Jaehyun behind his feet. Taeyong shoots him a warm smile. 

-

He rushes forward in fear of the light leaving him, again. He follows the path until a dead end welcomes him. A dark wall with just a door on it. The blue colored wood, the glowing stars stickers on it, the “DY” sign on it reminds him of his room. At least, the room that used to be his once. He twists the knob. The door opens, with a small creek, and darkness welcomes him. He feels dread wash over him, the phobia of the light leaving him once again. In fright he steps back and the door slams shut. He feels the ground under him disappear and he falls down into the never ending blackness. 

\- 

“Yong.”

“Hm?”

Breakfast had ended and the living room had been cleaned. Everyone had left five minutes ago leaving Doyoung to be the only one in the house beside Taeyong (and Ten). 

“I think… I think I will change my major.” Taeyong splutters, almost spilling his tea. 

“Really?!” He exclaims loudly. “To what?”

Doyoung smiles. 

“Music.”

-

“Doyoung.”

The voice is familiar. 

“Doyoung.” 

It spreads warmth throughout his entire body. 

“Don’t be scared Doyoung.”

The honey-like voice embraces him completely.

“I will help you.”

His muscles relax as he lets himself believe.

“I promise.”

-

Holidays pass as quickly as they come. It’s almost unfair how short the break feels. Soon enough Doyoung finds himself waking up early in order to go to his morning classes. Over the break he had a long conversation with Ten and Taeyong about his sudden desire to change majors. Afterwards they helped him write a paper to his academic advisor about why he should change majors. (Taeyong had stated that twenty pages was too much but too much was better than too little)

The first weeks back are spent in the medicine faculty eagerly waiting for approval. The said approval arrives a month later. Doyoung feels full of joy and hope. Feels ecstatic, over the moon. The first person Doyoung choses to go to give the good news isn’t his two friends. 

“I did it!” He screams to a confused Jaehyun. He had chosen to burst into the cafe, startling Jaehyun (and a few customers) who was in the process of making some drink. 

“What?” Doyoung smiles wider causing the lost Jaehyun in front of him to get more confused. 

“I changed my major like you advised. I am now pursuing music officially.” The smile on Jaehyun’s visage, bright and full of pride, is worth the argument he has with his father later. 

(The argument isn’t really important anyways. Even though it caused him to scratch his skin till it bled, it isn’t valuable.)

Doyoung had foolishly believed that changing majors would make him feel less pressured. Ironically it increased his anxiety. He found himself sleeping less as assignments took over his nights. His breaks were sacrificed in order to catch up on everything he had missed in the first term. Unfortunately the new major brought an urge to impress someone, anyone. This time it wasn’t his father he yearned to impress, no, it was everyone. They were very happy that Doyoung chose to follow his heart, proud even. He doesn’t want to lose the pride they have in him. The only pride someone ever had in him for being him. 

He is scared. 

Scared of losing the love his friends have in him. Terrified of losing the pride they have in him. He had finally gained something he had dreamed since he was little, he can’t let it go. Not now, not ever. 

-

The voice guided him like it had promised. Oddly though it had stopped talking for a while. As if it was switched off. 

“Voice?” He asked. No answer. 

“Voice?” He tried again, more frantic. No answer. The voice was gone after it had promised to stay. The walls seemed to close on his as everything became darker, scarier than before. 

“Don’t leave me.” He whimpered. “Don’t leave me like that did… 

please” 

-

Surprisingly it’s Jaehyun who finds him in his current state. Tear stained cheeks, nails dirtied with blood as red covering his wrists. 

“Doyoung. Oh god Doyoung, what did you do?” 

“I’m sorry!” Doyoung wails. 

In two hours they settle down with some rules. The first one is that he should never feel pressured to be perfect. Perfect is boring and he is loved with all his flaws by everyone. The second one is to speak to someone about his inner turmoil once he has them. The third and the last one is to live as himself. His life belongs to him and him only. 

“Jaehyun?” Doyoung asks, curled beside Jaehyun with an arm around his waist. 

“Hm?” 

“‘m sorry.” He mutters weakly. He plays with his sleeves, his lips forming a pount. Jaehyun smiles, his dimple on full display. 

“It’s okay, Doie.”

-

“I won’t unless you make me, Doyoung.” 

He looks up.

-

Doyoung’s body wasn’t supposed to react like this. From a very basic perspective he can say that he either is very ill or overreacting. Rapid beating in heart, feeling too hot, constant churning in his stomach. These are all symptoms of flu yet they only seem to appear beside a certain dimpled-person. He calls Taeyong.

“Do-”

“I think I am allergic to Jaehyun.”

“What?” Tayong sounds petrified and if Doyoung wasn’t having an entire crisis he would’ve laughed at the poor male. 

In the end of their one hour long phone call Doyoung learns that he is not allergic to Jahyun. Unfortunately he has a crush on Jaehyun and a gigantic one. Which means he might be gay or bisexual or pansexual. He shouldn’t be, no, he can’t be gay (or bi or pan). He grew up in a strict family where you couldn’t get tattoos, piercings, color your hair, smile too wide, smile with your teeth showing… He is a disappointment, a mistake. A black dot on a blank piece of paper. 

He finds himself in front of his entire crisis’ source at midnight. It takes one knock for Jaehyun to open the door (He is wearing his reading glasses and hot damn but that isn’t the point.)

“Doie? What are you doing here?” 

“Am I a mistake Jae?” Doyoung sounds so weak, so broken that Jaehyun feels his heart squeeze. 

“Of course not Do. No one ever is.”

“Yes I am. Why can’t I be like others, Jae? Content with who they are, happy to live? Why do I have to always overthink? Care too much? Why am I just made out of flaws?” Jaehyun’s thumb is warm as it wipes away his tears softly, as if he is a glass that can break. 

“I can teach you, Doie.” Jaehyun’s eyes are honey brown, soft and oh so captivating. Doyoung finds himself leaning in.

Leaning in until… 

-

“I won’t. I won’t leave you. I promise.” He says. A melodic laughter fills the room. 

“Well then, follow me.” And so he does. He follows the voice. Turning, spinning, going forward. He stops when his childhood door welcomes him again. The dread he had felt when he first saw it has disappeared as he twists the knob again. The door opens with a creek again but the darkness inside has been replaced with light. 

“Do you trust me, Do?”

“Yes, with my whole life.” 

“Then run towards me.” And that he does. He runs faster, freer than he ever had. The light surrounds him, blinding him. It gets brighter, brighter, brighter until…

-

Doyoung opens his eyes only to meet another pair. The honey brown colored eyes shine with happiness so does the visage of its owners. They both smile. 

They are home.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my longest work so far. I spent a lot of time on it and hope everyone enjoyed reading it!
> 
> I'll explain the metaphors a bit. The maze, as y'all probably figured out, is just insides Doyoung's mind and causes him to be stuck to the past rather than the present or the future. He is a slave of his fear and therefore is "stuck" inside the maze. The lights appear to lead him to exit whenever Doyoung feels hope but disappear once negative feelings take over again. At the end Doyoung finds hope in Jaehyun and therefore Jaehyun, as a voice, appears in his maze trying to guide him out. 
> 
> The maze is connected to what happens outside as it affects Doyoung's actions. At the end since Doyoung accepts his fears as past and lets himself move forward the voice Jaehyun manages to help him escape. He finds his home and his freedom from the past becoming completely independent. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
